Chemistry Club
by Eight-Thirteen
Summary: The young Turks of Twilight Town find Radiant Garden's schools ripe for Rufus's new empire. Unfortunately, no one bothered to inform Ansem's six apprentices of the change in the command. Xehanort, Braig, Dilan, Even, Rufus, Tseng, Reno, Rude, and Elena.
1. Prologue: Rufus

Prologue: Rufus

Radiant Garden had never before seen something quite like the Turks.

They had arrived rather swiftly to the small, peaceful kingdom, and yet were anything but small or peaceful. Transfer students, the whole lot, from a town no one had heard of in the half-sunlit realm called Twilight, they seemed at first a promising quintet. Rufus was regarded by adults as an aspiring young man, sharp and confident, a good conversationalist, properly respectful and the head of student council four years running. His right hand man was pragmatic and efficient, capable of organizing slews of tasks and scheduling while still maintaining perfect straight A records. The bald and red-head seemed a bit eccentric as a duet, but upon closer inspection their grades were good, they had skills in athletics, and they were frequently seen assisting with community services or clubs for neighborhood improvement. Their final member, the sweet, long-legged female, added the extra touch of innocence to their brigade; eager to please and very capable, she seemed a strong young woman headed for success.

To the adults of Radiant Garden, there was little, if anything, to contest about the bright new students from their neighboring lands; On the contrary, it was always wonderful to see the youths of tomorrow taking such an interest in today.

To their peers, on the other hand…

"This is just the beginning."

Rufus stood atop the high school building, watching the sun set over the hills that surrounded the peaceful city. It would rise again tomorrow morning to the east where the large castle towered over all, and he would watch that, too, satisfied in knowing that all he gazed upon was _his._ Everything which mattered, at any rate.

"The last gang offered their white flag earlier this afternoon, and we already have signatures indicating their future support. Final tallies on the student election shows you winning by a landslide; we did not even rig results this year. Beyond that, there is strong backing for our causes among the faculty of the math and literature department, and Rude and Reno have promised us arts, music, and athletics before the week's end." Tseng tapped the final numbers into his phone, before he closed the small device and promptly slid it in his pocket. "All extracurricular activities now require our endorsement, and we've obtained a student roster for the entire school district in case future…problems….should arise." There was a pause before and after 'problems,' indicating the full breadth of situations they were now equipped to handle.

"All in all…not bad for our first week here." Rufus was, quietly, impressed. It had taken them years to establish themselves back in Twilight Town, though they had been young and new to each other, then. Radiant Garden, on the other hand, the magnificent capital of the High Radian country, was a much more daunting and strategic point: an inevitable challenge he had been eager to accept. Careful planning had brought their campaign to fruition, many evenings spent in the basement of his father's lush estate as they counted down the nights till they'd be transferred, working to ensure they would have a place when they arrived.

And thus he stood here, now, his orders executed as swiftly as he would have expected from the best, and allowed himself a few careful moments just to _bask._

This kingdom might have had a ruler to take care of economics and outside issues, but everything age 19 and below now belonged to _him. _The future was in capable hands, he knew, because those hands were _his_: those of an outsider, perhaps, but also of an insider. There would be order, because the students would _fear_ to break the rules, and where there was order there could be _progress_, and a better state of living. They were well on their way towards that, here.

"What is our next objective, then?" Tseng finally asked as the sun slipped over the horizon, the deep blue of the encroaching night slowly casting stark and lovely silhouettes of buildings, trees, and houses on the fading amber sky. His hand was still in his pocket, at the ready. Although the dark-haired boy was never tense, Rufus had also never seen him quite relaxed, prepared instead at any moment for what might be yet to come.

"Let us get this district running like the well-oiled machine we have designed it now to be. I would like to see those club proposals, tonight, so that everything might continue functioning, tomorrow. Although the most difficult task is over…" He smirked, his hands clasping together now behind his back. "Our job is far from done. What an exciting year this is shaping up to be."

The other simply nodded, saying nothing as Rufus drifted back down to reality, his allotted moment of pride slowly fading with the sun. They had done well and he was pleased, intending for some mild celebration late that evening when the other Turks convened, but their plight was far from finished, and there was always more to do.

He turned, then, his coat swaying slightly with his movement, catching the quiet flash of agreement and _life_ within his companion's eyes. There was, perhaps, still much to do, but they were capable and they were _confident_ and nothing could stand in their way while they were ready. For a moment, the two shared a smirk before they departed from the rooftop, the sun forgotten fast behind them, new horizons already tantalizing before Rufus's cool blue eyes.

It was time…no, more than that. It was _their time. _

_"_Then lets get back to work, and see just what our newest town can do._"_


	2. Chapter 1: Xehanort

Chapter 1: Xehanort

Pulling away from the findings underneath the microscope, at long last Xehanort allowed himself to breath.

Outside it was certainly a beautiful day in Radiant Garden, as all days within the city ought to be, even with the coming fall. One of the laundry-maids was humming lively tunes as she hung the dripping clothing, and there was the distant clatter of dishes in the kitchen far below, but for the most part work was stalled while Master Ansem was away. Tutoring was cancelled and independent study was encouraged, leaving the six apprentices to devise their own experiments at their whims, and they had broken off in eager segments to each learn something new.

It was a relatively perfect sort of day, in fact, but Xehanort was paying little attention to the weather, or the absence of his mentor, or the mental state of laundry-maids. There was something much more wonderful afoot.

His recent bacterial test-subjects had exhibited near-gaussian distribution when graphed against his theorized equation, which, so long as the supposed probability density continued to occur, would prove said equation to be right. Yet even more exciting was the possibility that this equation implied an extended existence _beyond_ the physical matter of the micro bodies, based upon the near chaotic properties demonstrated by the non-sentient organisms.

Even was going to be _livid:_ the other been working on this theory for _months_.

Yet Even always seemed so slow in comparison to Xehanort, never daring enough to think conclusions first and test them, later. The dirty-blonde haired apprentice, instead, spent painstaking time working through the fundamentals to his theories, testing out the basics before he allowed himself to make assumptions. It could be frustrating sometimes, to Xehanort, who found the need to catch up with his peers a quite incessant motivation…yet, he supposed it was true that when Even inevitably _did _reach a conclusion it was never false.

On the other hand, he himself had encountered many failures through his own experimenting, lacking the foundations in biology and chemistry and physics and ultra-molecular resonance that the other students had. Thus he felt a particular surge of pride when he did reach a grand conclusion, for a few moments feeling like he might be able to contribute to their world to make up for all the years he'd missed before loosing his memories. He was even careful this time, recording down conclusions and accurately mapping points out on the timeline, turning off the luminescent sheeting underneath the microscope (he'd left it on, once, before, and overexposed bacteria that Even had been culturing for _weeks,_) and returning the samples back into their moist protective environment (Ienzo's misnomered refrigerator) before he gathered his notes to scurry from the lab.

Yet no one seemed to be about. Even was not in his room, nor in any of the other laboratories, and Master Ansem was away on foreign call. He was starting to feel his impatience returning (even if he knew the data wasn't going anywhere, and that it was unlikely that some mad scientist off the streets would come running into the castle to show the other students the same observations first) when his ears faintly detected the sound of the copy machine running.

Xehanort paused.

"Chemistry Club?" He echoed, moments later, staring over Even's shoulder at the stack of papers in the printing tray, curiosity nagging him to find out more. "Why do we need a club for chemistry? We already do it all the time."

The older apprentice _jumped,_ muffling an unfortunate squeak of dismay and neatly scattering blue-printed papers everywhere about the room. For a moment, Even simply stared at the catastrophe before he turned, and contemplated the other with an expression that indicated he was quite displeased.

"Pardon me, young Xehanort, but we do not 'do' chemistry." Behind the ruffled blonde the copier continued to diligently expel printouts, all of which were slowly slipping off of the now-precariously mounting stack. Eager to not clean a bigger mess, Xehanort pushed past his fellow student to right the papers while Even continued persistently to scoff. "We _delve_ into the great reaches of chemistry, or we _deduce_ the inner workings of chemistry. Sometimes we produce chemical results, or formulate chemical equations, or tamper with the elements, all of which are a far cry from simply 'doing.'" Xehanort watched as Even absentmindedly picked up papers from the room and handed them to him, seemingly not conscious of the fact that he had caused their unrest in the first place. "Besides, Chemisty _Club_ is an environment in which _others_ can 'do' Chemistry besides ourselves. Master Ansem and I discussed the project long ago and implemented it last year. It has become my duty, now…"

The younger apprentice lifted a finger to protest as Even went to grab the stack, before the other hefted the bundle anyhow, then blinked at the enormous weight.

"There are too many, Even." Xehanort stated, matter-of-factly. "You're going to need a cart."

"Nonsense." Was the curt reply, made even shorter by lack of breath as the prideful blonde tried to shift the paper's weight and found them much too much to handle. "It would take too long to sign for one, and I'm running out of time," he instead replied, eyes narrowing through the strain and over the stack of papers towards the white-haired boy. "But I suppose I do need an assistant." His elbows were stubbornly shaking as pale green eyes darted for a place to let the papers down, and found none. "Set your notebook somewhere and come help me; we're just going down the street."

Xehanort felt his heartbeat quicken somewhere between joy and dread at those words, and he blinked in his surprise. While he was, on one hand, thrilled about the prospect of assisting his unreachable companion (since Even never let him in on special projects) he had been looking forward to showing his new data right away. "But Even…" He began…and then, after a moment, relented to his better judgment (the papers were about to fall) and accepted half the stack. "Where are you going? May I join you there in a few minutes, after I put my notebook in my room?"

If the older apprentice had a mind to do something, somewhere, at a particular time, there was little stopping or deterring him from his appointed task. Xehanort was just going to have to wait to show Even his data if he wanted the other boy to appreciate it fully (which he most certainly did.)

And besides…this seemed like it could be quite the adventure folding out in front of him in what should have been a normal day.

"I'm headed for Radiant High." The tall blonde tossed over his shoulder, walking briskly for the lifts that took them to the ground, not even taking time to stop and properly explain. "Do you know where that is?"

Xehanort blinked, and nodded, shifting the stack of papers carefully to one arm so he could reach and grab his notebook. "It isn't far, but I've never been in." He was quickly calculating in his head just how long it would take to set his notebook somewhere safe, and debated asking Even just to wait. Yet he had seemed in a hurry, enough to not be stopping now to give the right directions. "Can you please hold up?"

"I'll walk slow, but I shouldn't tarry." The other turned as lift-doors opened, glancing back at Xehanort. "They're going to lunch soon, and if I'm not there at that particular moment, I'll never hand these out. Be quick, and you'll catch up with me." Even stepped inside the elevator. "Just don't mess up this time."

-

-

-

Xehanort _ran_ as he had never run before.

Certainly there had been days when he'd seen the need to _move,_ such as when Braig jokingly told him that Ienzo mixed the wrong two substances together and the lab was going to explode, or when Master Ansem set the wild chocobo loose during his first survival training, or when he was mistakenly blamed for the unfortunate misplacement of ladies undergarments into Dilan's drawers before inspection. In those moments he'd felt the need to run _rather _quickly, and usually to save his hide, but even his young hide was not so important as this cause.

It was simply because Even, despite the fact that Xehanort had been there for a year, had not _once _ever invited him along to _any_ science-type activities, homework sessions, or even late night ice-cream raids.

This was the first.

He _would not _let the other down.

Thus it was when he ran into a brown-haired, startled lump that haphazardly shouted: 'Hey, don't run into OOOF-!' that Xehanort's world came unfortunately crashing down in glorious explosions of white papers and blue-printed ink. In moments he was panicking, clutching at what was left of the stack with his right hand while reaching out to grasp for fluttering white scraps desperately with his left. (This wasn't happening, this could _not _be happening! If he took too long….)

"Whoa, whoa, hold on! What in Garden are you so crazed about?" Braig's voice cut in through soft sounds of falling paper as he snatched one from the air to read. His eyes darted back and forth in assessment while his fellow apprentice hurriedly tried to restore order, until after a moment Braig finally asked, incredulously: "Chemistry Club?" It was obvious that he was trying not to laugh. "What do you need something like that for: We do chemistry all the time!"

"I know we do!" Xehanort countered, exasperatedly setting down the stack to get on his knees so that he could collect the rest. "Its _Even's_ project, not mine. Something he runs down at the High School." His hands were flying, trying to gather papers and hoping not to let his fellow student down. "And if I don't hurry, I'll be late!"

"Even's project?" Braig finally bent down to help him, one-handed, as he looked over the advertisement with the other. "Meets weekly in room 203 at Radiant High. 'For intellectuals who seek to deeply delve into the wondrous domain of chemistry?' Yeah, this sounds like Even wrote it." Handing his collected and half-wrinkled papers over, the young scientist chuckled. "Must be that extracurricular class he started teaching last year."

"You know about it?" Xehanort blinked, snatching what the other had collected and desperately trying to smooth them out, before he hurried on towards his room. The other followed doggedly, still puzzling over the flyer he had snagged, but in truth, Xehanort didn't really mind the company. His nerves were still frazzled from the impact and having someone else to talk with kept him focused. Besides, Braig never seemed to get upset (which was highly calming) and also was the only one who genuinely took an interest in what Xehanort wished to do _without_ becoming exasperated when he lacked some basic information.

Heavens, Braig was the self-proclaimed king of conveniently lacking knowledge: He had said so frequently himself.

"Master Ansem suggested that he set something up for local students. He wanted to keep interest in the sciences high, but I'm pretty sure only the top five nerds from Rad-High ever went to any meetings." Pausing as they reached Xehanort's room, Braig leaned on the doorframe to plant himself directly between Xehanort and the exit while the other went inside to put his notebook down. "So now he's pulled you in to help him, has he?"

"Even said that he could use my assistance." With the notebook safe and sound, and as many papers rescued as was manageable, Xehanort felt mildly more ready to catch up with the blonde. Yet, if what Braig was saying proved to be true and there weren't many students interested, he didn't understand why Even wanted his help, anyway. "Maybe he thinks if there are two of us, he'll be able to attract more members."

It was probably the wrong thing to say, and Xehanort regretted it immediately.

Braig, despite his laid-back attitude, had a history of subtly upsetting plans that Even had set up, and Xehanort had suddenly provided him _too_ good a chance to ruin one of Even's schemes.

"So you're running off to help him."

In fact, there it was. That _smirky _tone of voice he'd come to recognize as meaning 'insert devious plans here' behind those light-brown eyes and toothy smile.

"Yes." Xehanort blinked, and looked up to Braig, absolutely serious and stubbornly determined.

The other stared right back, and for several moments they were poised that way: the younger wishing to pass by and continue his adventure, the older seemingly incredulous to the importance of the task. Yet Xehanort's resolve was firm, and as much as he knew Braig liked to sabotage some of Even's best intentions, this was a mission he was going to stick out. Chemistry Club, if he could help it, was going to succeed…because then Even would _have_ to acknowledge that Xehanort was competent and useful. It was going to happen. It _had_ to happen. It _would_ occur.

"You really want to try this?" An eyebrow lifted and arms crossed, but still the young apprentice gravely nodded.

"Yes."

"Alright, then." Braig smirked and moved outside the doorway, his hand deftly sliding to the handle. "You wait here until I'm back…this won't take long. Together…we'll make Chemistry Club into a hit." He laughed, and stepped back….

…And the door locked closed behind him.

-

-

-

For several minutes, Xehanort believed he had been tricked.

There was not much time to spare, and he'd already wasted precious moments gathering papers that never should have spilled. When the door latch _clicked_ as it had closed Xehanort had almost panicked, trying the handle feverously to no avail (and wondering where Braig had found the key to lock his room or what maid he had conned to hand it over.) As much as he acknowledged that the apprentices played pranks upon each other, this was much too cruel.

He was pounding on the door in moments hoping to be let out.

"Braig, please…_please _don't do this. Open up my door?"

Seconds later he was close to tears, imagining that Even was proceeding on without him and collecting myriads of students. The worst of possible situations danced before his eyes: That the blonde-haired boy _needed_ the extra papers Xehanort possessed, and would never forgive him for his lateness even if it was not quite his fault.

Yet as the initial panic passed him by it dawned on him that standing there and feeling sorry for himself was not about to get him anywhere. _He_ had been the foolish one in trusting Braig, so now he had to face the fire and contemplate his great escape. There was the phone (Ienzo might be willing to assist him,) or the window (even if they were ten stories up,) or…

Except now that he was thinking he remembered that it was, in fact, _his_ room, and that he had his _own_ key in his notebook just in case the need arose. Feeling somewhat like an absent-minded fool, he turned away from the door to fetch it before a not-quite-normal echo sounded in his ears.

Xehanort paused.

"Dammit, Braig." He could hear out in the hallway, accompanied by the shuffling sounds of one scrawny apprentice pushing stubbornly on another much more massive one. "I was halfway done with re-deriving Maxwell's time variables in resonance space. It's _important." _There was a pause as Dilan's footsteps halted and anchored into place outside his door. "Can't whatever-the-hell-you're-doing wait for later?"

"No way, dude." Braig was obviously straining against Dilan, followed by the sound of a key turning in the lock. "This is _way_ more important." The door flew open and Xehanort backed off, wide-eyed, confused and half-relieved to see the pair. Somehow, in the scant few minutes he'd been gone, Braig had managed to change his shirt and belt, looking much more complicated if somewhat exotic (he, himself, never quite been able to peg 'fashion sense,' but something told him Braig's was just a little off. Nevertheless, other people seemed to find it fascinating, and he'd had no reason to complain.) Dilan, as a contrast, was in his normal hoodie, hair bound up and hands in pockets with a single eyebrow raised in mild curiosity to Xehanort, an unusually long, thin stick stuck in his mouth.

"There he is." Braig finally stopped attempting to shove Dilan forward and instead propped his arm against the other like a wall to gesture grandiosely towards the young white-haired apprentice. "Make him cool."

"What?" Xehanort blinked and took another step away, now much more cautious than before. "What are you doing?"

"Hell, could you have given me a _harder _task?" The dark haired boy spared Xehanort a glance and then sized him up incredulously before narrowing his eyes at Braig. "At least equations don't mix plaids and stripes." Yet the prankster merely shrugged as if some message passed between them, giving Dilan yet another prod in Xehanort's direction and a good-natured 'Yeah, fine, Dude, I owe you' sort of grin. It was mildly confusing to the young apprentice, yet whatever the actual message must have been at least seemed to convince the other boy. Dilan stepped into the room and sighed, brushing past him finally towards the closet to dust off the rather clouded mirror. "Ever use this thing?"

Braig was chuckling and Xehanort was not pleased at the intrusion, though he did follow the braided black-haired boy to stand before the glass.

It wasn't that he didn't use the mirror, after all, so much as that appearance didn't _matter_. He saw the same six apprentices every day, as well as the same maids, the same cooking staff, the same guardsmen and the same tutors. It was rare he left the castle and, beyond that, he felt no need to pick his clothes: what Master Ansem gave him certainly sufficed. All in all, he dressed a lot like Even, but he could never quite get his shirts as pressed or his hair to actually behave, part of which he believed was the source of their contention. No matter what he did, he just couldn't meet the proper standards Even set.

After a moment, Dilan sighed, and glanced back to Braig, before he took stock once again of Xehanort.

"First off: the lab goggles."

At least now Braig was _stifling _his laughter, though Xehanort's face still turned bright red. He'd forgotten all about them once his tests were done, and they left a nice red mark on the bridge of his nose when he finally removed them, setting them down on the desk nearby. Yet Dilan was still watching, scrutinizing, and he felt somewhat smaller underneath his gaze.

"Good. Now the lab coat." Wordlessly, Xehanort complied, folding the garment and setting it off to the side. "And the vest." With a sigh, he removed that too, and waited for the next instruction. "Now, undo your belt." Dilan ordered, chewing quietly upon his reed.

"What?" Xehanort balked, finally not quite believing what he'd just been asked.

"Do you need someone to do it for you?" The other raised an eyebrow, letting the threat settle quietly upon its victim.

For a moment, Xehanort considered what might happen if he did refuse, and pitted that against what strange possibilities there were if he assented: but so far all that it accomplished was a waste of precious time. Even was probably at the High School by now, and Braig and Dilan weren't about to let him out until they'd done…well…whatever it was they were about to do to him. "I…well…" Yet could it really be that bad? It was not as if the two were _cruel, _right?

That sealed his decision (for the worst fate he could fathom at this point didn't seem so bad in comparison to failing Even's task) and quickly he undid his buckle. "Alright. Alright, then." Xehanort finally agreed. "Then can we make this fast?"

A smirk appeared on Dilan's face behind him, intense and dark and almost playful (he had _never _seen that sort of look before) yet he didn't have much time to contemplate what that could mean. Suddenly he _gasped_ as Dilan yanked his pants a little lower on his hips and untucked wrinkled shirt-tails, seeming almost a bit too fast and too experienced with this sort of thing. From behind, the older scientist reached his arms around Xehanort's front, deft fingers re-buckling his belt and unbuttoning the top collar-button before the white-haired boy could quite protest. The final move left his shirt pulled suddenly taught before Dilan pinned it thus, stepping back when it was over to let Xehanort really see his new self through the dusty mirror.

Strangely, it looked _good_.

He blinked, and paused, still momentarily stunned by the speed of the transformation before he turned a little to the side, surprised that he could tell he was still in reasonable shape beneath the starched white cotton. (He had fighter's muscles, Master Ansem once had said when formal saber training had begun, though the older man never thought to speculate on _why _that had been so. It simply was as it was, another mystery remaining from his forgotten life before.)

"That's probably all that I can do for now, without a pair of shears and four more hours." Dilan reached out, ruffling Xehanort's already ruffled mane of hair, before he finally smirked. "But you look good, kid. You can take him, now, Braig, without him being an embarrassment."

"Awesome." The other chuckled, and cocked his head towards the hall. "Then let's get out of here, before Even's pants get any tighter while he frets. Don't want them cutting off his circulation, after all, even if that wouldn't hurt anything important. Grab this stack of papers, Dilan, and we'll take the shortcut."

"_I'm _not coming." Dilan muttered, glancing at Braig like he was crazy (as if that was ever far from true.)

"Yeah, you are, 'cause you're involved now. Besides, we'll need someone to keep the hot chicks off us while we pass out flyers. You can be our bodyguard." Braig was laughing, once again, breaking Xehanort out of his little mirrored world. It was amazing what small changes could do, but he didn't know if he felt right just going out like this. What would the maids say? What would other staff, or other townsfolk, or _Even _think? Worse yet, What if Master Ansem came back from his trip and saw him?

That last one was a somewhat chilling thought.

"Hn." Was all that Dilan bothered to reply, but he did at least pick up the stack of papers. "You owe me, Braig. Big time."

"Fair enough." Reaching over, Braig grabbed Xehanort's wrist, and pulled him towards the door despite his sudden apprehension. "Welcome to the lifestyles of the cool, little Xeh." There was a smirk, before the world became a blur and they were moving down the hallway. "Now let's go see about some _real_ Chemistry."

-

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-

Radiant High was an extremely large high school, boasting the most extensive population base and most varied ethnic background of any other institution in the land. Being in the capital of their country, first, and from a highly economic trade city in a bay on the bright Veridian Sea, second, it was known worldwide and generally regarded as one of the most prestigious public schools from which one could graduate. Their average GPA was higher, their sports teams were better, and their arts program had given fundamentals to some of the most creative individuals that century. Guided under the famous programs for learning instituted by Ansem the Wise, it was a school that theoretically bred the best, and families world-wide had their students transferred in when possible.

Yet it wasn't without problems of its own.

"Generally speaking, there is no unity across the Board." Braig grinned, walking up the front steps of the multi-story school. "They've got a reasonable budget, but every department wants a big piece of the pie so some of the 'less-exciting' classes get left out, like chemistry and physics. That's why Master Ansem suggested to Even that he volunteer some of his time. You know how the guy likes extra credit…"

Xehanort nodded, clutching a decent number of the flyers that he'd taken back from Dilan when they'd gotten close enough and trying his best to be unnoticeable. Fortunately for them all, Braig's shortcut had just involved one of the faster lifts and trips through a few alleyways, instead of the dynamic parachuting-out-of-windows-onto-racing-chocobo that Xehanort had half-expected.

At the top of the staircase he could see Even pacing, glancing down after a moment and opening his mouth to chide the young apprentices for being late before simply stopping and gaping like a fish. "Dilan? Braig? _Xehanort?_" The blonde could only blink, and shake his head. "_What did you do to him?_ And what _are _you doing here?"

"We're here to help you out, old boy." Braig lifted one of the blue-inked papers from Even's pile, waving it with mock enthusiasm before posing with a smirk. "Rah rah rah. Go Chemistry Club, go, and so on."

"Bah, high school." With a sigh, Dilan handed off the remainder of his papers to his more energetic companion to distribute, sticking his hands back into their pockets and pulling out another reed. "I've heard horror stories about this kind of place." He still did not look like he wanted to be there, but he hadn't left yet, nor had Braig been messing with him quite so much as usual. It seemed like they actually might be able to do this, if they could work together without it ending in a brawl.

"Well, you don't have to _attend classes_ here." Even prodded as he moved forward, opening the door and gesturing everyone inside, still sparing not-quite-believing glances back at Xehanort. "You just have to pass out papers for a little while, if you insist on helping out."

The brown-haired apprentice grinned, starting in and walking down the hall as if he owned it, taking a look around at the lockers and myriads of doorways before he placed his hands on his hips and swung around to face them. "Even, you should know that Dilan isn't here to help you out. He's just here to _look freaking awesome._ I would have thought that, as a _scientist_, you'd appreciate such a fine specimen of a guy."

Even scoffed, brushing quickly past Braig's challenge and hurrying towards the cafeteria. "Sorry, Braig, but unlike you I don't take the time to appreciate masculinity in all its forms." There was a small smirk playing on his lips which only broadened at his target's incredulous protests while he chose a table and started setting up. Xehanort noticed that he'd picked up a bag of supplies somewhere along the way…a stapler and banners…and was applying notices up to a half-empty bulletin board.

"As if! I'm not the one who spends two hours getting dressed and putting _curlers_ in his hair each morning. Just who are you trying to impress?"

"Women, for one thing."

"For one thing? Then what is the second?" Braig crossed his arms and continued to beam his most devious of smirks. "And by the way, dude, women are _not_ impressed by guys in glasses, vests, and waist-high pants. Trust me."

"They're not?" Xehanort blinked, grabbing a chair for Even to stand on so he could staple flyers on the top half of the board. "How do you know what women want?"

For once, the three stopped dead in arguing to stare at the white-haired apprentice. Suddenly, as he started turning red, it dawned on Xehanort that this was another of those topics he did not quite understand. Personally, the more Braig talked about women, the more he didn't see why they were meant to be pursued or impressed, especially when there were exciting subjects to be studied at the castle. Really, it seemed a pretty strange idea on the whole.

The unusual silence was punctuated, thankfully, by the lunch bell, in perfect tandem to prevent a round of laughter he was certain would arise. Braig and Dilan instead looked to Even and raised an eyebrow each, wondering at the sudden apprehension which had graced the blonde apprentice's face.

"Oh, my." Even stared up at the clock, stepping quickly off of his chair and putting it back safely at the table before he grabbed his stack of flyers and quietly gulped. "Everyone, I suggest you ready yourselves."

A rumbling was starting in the background, and the look on Even's face was rather disconcerting. Xehanort gripped onto his papers tightly, wondering what sort of terrors might befall them.

(It was just a high school, right? Not any different than any other school. He went to school, himself, inside the castle, and there were classrooms just like here, and a lunchroom just like this but much, much smaller, and even a lunch bell of sorts that rang when it was time for tea and snack. What could possibly be scary in a place like this?)

"Now."

Except suddenly all chaos decided to break loose.

Xehanort, in his entire lifetime, had never seen so many students his age file into one large space so quickly. For that matter, 'file' wasn't quite the word, as one moment he was standing by the table and the next moment he was pressed against the wall, astounded by the noise and myriads of colors, staring wide-eyed at boys and girls with books and book-bags and cell-phones, blinking rapidly as one girl winked at him before she sat down.

"Let's get to work, now, shall we?" Even straightened his vest and collar, standing off to the side of their new billboard and waiting expectantly for someone to approach. The room had filled up rapidly, lines forming at the edges where students disappeared into a side room and re-emerged with trays of food. Groups of them were talking and walking and selecting tables, glancing curiously at the four apprentices and the large sign behind them that proclaimed their venture grandly.

"You should go talk to her." From his left side, Xehanort felt Braig nudge him, and could almost _hear_ the smirk as it dripped from his voice. "Hand her a flyer. Ask her to join." For a moment, Xehanort stared blankly at Braig and wondered who on earth he was talking about, before he realized that Braig was peering in the direction of the student who had winked at him, the girl who was quietly pulling out her lunch from a brightly colored bag.

"Do you think she would be interested?" If his eyes could have grown any wider they would have, his heart racing with the worry of defeat. Promoting Chemistry Club was not something he'd had any lessons on how to accomplish, and he had no idea how to interact with someone new.

Braig only started laughing, however, and actually pushed him forward before heading off with Dilan and a small stack of his own. "She will if she knows you'll be there. Just try it!"

Nodding, quietly, and steeling up his own reserves, Xehanort slowly approached the table that the girl who winked at him was sitting at. She glanced up, briefly, but then smiled, pulling her things out of his way and making room for him to sit. "You must be new, here." She began, and Xehanort was already tensing and preparing for the worst. "Are you a transfer student?"

"Not entirely." He was nervous and his breath was shaky, but he wasn't willing to give up. If he could have let her know how hard this was (and how much that simple smile helped, right now,) he would have, but that didn't seem the proper thing to do. Instead he simply told the other truth: "I'm here with my colleagues, promoting Even's Chemistry Club. Would you be able to attend, perhaps?" (There, he had done it!) He managed to retrieve a flyer, and offered it forth, his own shy smile accompanying the gesture.

"I can certainly try!" Her hand reached out, and Xehanort passed her the paper, feeling like he'd done just about the most important thing of his young life. It was surprising, also…girls weren't as scary as Braig had made them out to be, and this one was very different from the maids, as well. If the day kept on like this, then he might actually start to enjoy coming to the high school for this club.

"Then I hope to see you there!" He replied, his smile widening before he returned to Even at the board once more. It was a bit more comfortable there, out of the way, and he could watch the bustle of the students safely as they went about their lunch.

Really, they seemed to be doing rather well. Braig and Dilan were out among the crowd, meeting other students and handing out the flyers, and he could see Braig laughing here and there or joking with a table of them. Dilan never spoke up much, but every so often he'd have something to say that could crack either ice or the most stout of resolutions, and he could see their stack was quickly dwindling as they made their rounds.

He personally preferred to stay a little closer in to Even, not sure of his own two feet among so large a mass…but even he managed to break out of his shell and pass out flyers when there were groups nearby. For the most part people seemed polite enough to at least accept the invitation, and he could easily return back to the wall when he was done.

Thus it was that when he looked up, his back against the billboard, expecting to greet Even and instead staring into bright blue eyes framed by a shock of red bangs, he was momentarily rendered speechless.

"Yo. Whatcha got there?" A smooth voice asked, both hands in a pair of pockets to form an offensive slouch, a set of goggles resting on its head. For a brief moment, Xehanort was accosted by the posture and the intonation, the overly relaxed drawl and the too-casual stance if not by the smirk that stretched from ear to ear. The eyes, also, were just too piercing and insightful, leaving Xehanort to briefly wonder if this fellow had any relationship to Braig and his subtly dynamic schemes.

"Che..Chemistry Club." He managed to get out, thrusting a paper rather suddenly between him and the smirk. "You should join us. We're going to give interactive demonstrations to show how prevalent chemistry is in all our lives. It would be my pleasure if you would attend." His own eyes slowly peered around the edge of the blockade to meet the shocking blue ones, once again.

"Your pleasure, hm?" The red-head reached up, plucking the paper from Xehanort's grasp and reading it quickly before looking back. "Well, it just so happens I agree." He leaned in suddenly, growing close enough that the young apprentice could smell his cologne (wasn't he too young to wear that sort of thing?) "Chemistry is very, very important to our lives."

For a moment, Xehanort couldn't quite think of what to do. His heart was racing, and the other was too close and too intense, pushing a situation on the young apprentice that he didn't really understand. It would be impolite to tell the boy to go away, yet his presence was overbearing and Xehanort was absolutely stunned. He thought he felt a hand rest his arm, but wasn't sure if it was real, and it seemed like the stranger was somehow growing nearer, deciphering through his thin façade to point out wordlessly that Xehanort did not belong inside this high-school world.

All in all, the experience was rather disconcerting.

Yes, that was the word.

"I think I could spare a few moments after school to grace you with my presence." The red-head finally laughed, pulling back and winking to him while folding up the paper to stick in his shirt-pocket. "So see you 'round." There was almost a salute from the stranger before he stepped back as the lunch bell rang. Hundreds rose from their seats, grabbing papers and devouring final scraps of food, dumping out their trash and moving back and forth chaotically to create a dizzying spectra behind the bright red-and-blue features and black-and-white clothes of the boy who was still smirking at him. Xehanort could only slide his back up against the wall, thoughts racing, wondering _why_ he felt disturbed and what the red-head had intended or might mean in the future.

Still, he stood there, staring after the strange boy as he disappeared into the crowd, the students parting as he exited to vanish down long hallways. The lunch room was left empty in a mess of dirty floors and wayward trays, Braig and Dilan chortling in the background while Even tacked remaining flyers to the wall.

No one seemed to pay him any mind as he looked down, finally, to his small stack of papers, realizing that if Even really wanted him to help, he was going to have to come back Tuesday like he'd told so many students he would do.

Yet could he? It seemed almost possible when he'd begun, if somewhat overwhelming around so many students…but could he _really _do this, against those sort of eyes again?

Suddenly, he wasn't quite so sure.

"Heavens." The Club's founder , on the other hand, seemed quite eager to begin. "Chemistry certainly is popular, this year."

In the background, Braig and Dilan only smirked.


	3. Chapter 2: Reno

Chapter 2: Reno

For the most part, Reno was a fairly amiable guy. He smiled as he walked, he nodded to the ladies, he wasn't afraid to speak his mind, and he was confident of his position in the world. By now between both Rude and him, they'd found the hang-outs of pretty much every clique, and most of 'em hadn't been a threat. There just wasn't enough strength per gang to stand against the Turks, and none of them had even thought to unify when the new threat had first arrived. Not to say that it'd hadn't taken months of pre-planning to so-quickly plant themselves up top, but…

He smirked quietly to himself at the number of students that wouldn't hold his gaze. _That_ was a true testament to where they stood right now.

Yet that _kid_ from earlier with the long white hair (who had white hair, anyhow?) had just looked at him _blankly_. As if the black and white and red Turk uniform hadn't hit the keys of recognition in his brain. Pretty much everyone was trained to notice that, by now: there wasn't anyone in the school who'd just _looked_ at him before.

Leaning onto his locker, agitated (and annoyed that he was agitated,) he glanced over to Rude. "Y'hear anything about a chem club?"

His counterpart was quietly sorting through his locker, re-arranging the books for next period and pulling out the ones he needed now for math--including Reno's. Their cramped locker wasn't nearly so Spartan as Tseng's (he swore that man could warp space just to keep things stark) but it was pretty damned impressive the amount the guy could fit inside: Their books, his bag, their lunch, a few pictures of them back in Twilight, five or six extra pairs of sunglasses, an advertisement for Drama club…

Reno started to blink in surprise at the last item before Rude promptly closed the door and slipped his lock in, lifting a quiet eyebrow to indicate his answer.

"I hadn't heard of them before now, either. Didn't think this school put _that _much stock in maths and sciences …" Digging in his pocket, Reno pulled the flyer out to look it over. "Especially for after school. Hell, who wants to stay extra hours of the day for stuff like this?" He handed it over to Rude, who started walking down towards their next class as he read. "It just feels a little weird, that's all. We probably should bring it up at the next meeting."

There was a nod of slow agreement as the other skimmed the paper's lines. Personally, Reno found it a pretty damned ridiculous club to join, considering all the other options. The computer club, at least, spent their time building _hard drives_, and the math club entered contests to compete for whatever glory math-geeks shared. Sure, chemistry had its own benefits and all, but it was just too much work.

"We've got a class with Tseng next period." Reno continued to muse, running a hand through his hair and watching a particularly attractive girl slide through the crowds. "So I'll let him know. He'll probably have the whole thing worked out before school even ends today. " The girl gave him a glance and a slight sway of the hips, and Reno returned a wink and mock-salute while other students stayed carefully out of his way, even as he watched a pair bump into each other spilling books and other stuff across the hall. The rest happened too quickly for anyone but Rude to note, but ended as he probably would have predicted: a slim high-heel slipping on a pencil, a collectively held breath, and then the girl in Reno's arms, inches from the ground.

Heh. He was good, and he knew he was that good.

Good enough that she rewarded him a smile, impressed in that reserved sort of manner that really high-class girls only gave out once a blue moon. "You're pretty insatiable."

"You're insatiably pretty." He replied back, smoothly, showing a flash of pearly whites before he stood them up and handed her a business card. It already said 'Less than three - Reno.' on the back, and had his number. A Turk was _always_ prepared.

"Probably nothing to worry about, anyhow." He finally said to Rude as the both of them walked off along the hall, the astonished crowd agape behind them. "With a name as boring as 'Chemistry Club,' it's got to be doomed."

--

--

--

Reno didn't bother thinking about the club again until after last period, and when he did it was to tell Tseng that it wasn't that much of a threat. "There were three guys and one chick handing out those flyers, and they were probably all Seniors…except this one kid with white hair." It was turning out to be a nice day outside, after all, and he didn't want to have to stick around much longer. "He was some sort of albino, I'd say, because it sure as hell wasn't natural." Reno'd know, after all. No one had hair like that who wasn't 60.

Tseng's eyes narrowed as he peered at the flyer, examining it closer as if expecting the remaining information to be tattooed inside the grain. The meetings had been getting shorter since they'd taken full control last weekend, and today's was only between he and Tseng since the other three had stuff on their agendas. Important stuff, he guessed, and briefly wondered why he hadn't come up with something more important to do, also.

"So are they sanctified or not?" He finally asked when Tseng did not make an immediate assessment.

"Not according to my records." The black-haired boy replied, folding the paper and slipping it inside his vest. "Which is…unusual." He had a look on his face that was extraordinarily blank, which probably meant that he actually was puzzled. Extracurricular activities and clubs normally went through the school's secretary, and Tseng had a hack straight into her computer, so for there to be something that he _didn't_ have a record of…

Well, it could be serious business.

Reno hadn't been expecting any problems, (and he knew Tseng hadn't been either) so he leaned back against someone's locker and shrugged. "So, what now?"

"I'm going to go through the archived files tonight…but just to be certain, Reno, make sure you're at that club meeting this Tuesday. I expect a full report and possibly any…extra…information you might be able to obtain."

With a nod, Reno finally pushed off the wall and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Sure thing, boss." It was just as he'd expected, after all, and a little reconnaissance sounded like a nice change from the normal observation duty. He'd see if he couldn't pull in Rude, as well, for a bit of entertainment since he'd have to sit through chemistry. "I'll bring you back a periodic table as a souvenir."

"Make sure it isn't nailed down this time." Tseng nodded as he turned to go. "I haven't hacked into the cameras yet."

--

--

--

Unbelievably enough, a crowd had turned out for Chemistry Club. Everywhere he looked there were those flyers with the bright blue ink, and although most of the kids seemed like the lower dregs of geekdom there were actually a few curious looking prep, unclassified, and rich-kid cliques about, even if most of them seemed to be elbowing each other in some sort of dare.

It was an impossible turnout for the first day of a club.

He found himself a table in the corner, set his bag on top, and snaked up onto it with the practiced ease of a professional slacker. Around him the others left a proper clearance, survival instincts telling them to pretend that the black-and-white clad guy with the fearsome red hair was probably best left up to his own devices. They'd been learning pretty well. Almost enough for Reno to be impressed; almost, if he hadn't been pissed off at the time.

Rude had been…busy.

Again.

It was some sort of secret mission from what Reno could tell, obvious by the way his partner looked guiltily not-at-Reno when he'd asked. Secret missions were well and fine most of the time…but most of the time, Reno was in on the secret and lackadaisically smirking at everybody else. He didn't like being left in the dark one bit, and really hated no one being there to watch his back (or roll his eyes at when a day got particularly boring). He'd had a partner for these 'mission' things a long time, now, and they weren't half as much fun when he did them all alone.

It wasn't _supposed_ to bug him, though, and so he slouched the slouch of a vagrant, smirked the smirk of the devious, and fluffed his hair to maximum don't-touch-me-I'll-bite-but-you'll-probably-like-it-tomcat.

He was ready for anything.

The lights dimmed, the room 'ooohed,' and the presentation began.

A few moments later, even Reno's mouth was hanging slightly open.

It was obvious the whole thing had been staged, somehow. Or at least practiced pretty heavily. The quartet had glowy things, flashy things, sweet-smelling things, and even baked goods to talk about yeast cultures that made pretty tasty samples. Even so, there was an edge of spontaneity: the blonde haired girl occasionally arguing with the brown-haired skinny boy, the young white-haired one running back and forth fetching things and tripping the others while he was underfoot, and the larger, dark-haired one who mostly just held dangerous things with the nonchalance of a lion-tamer. It was like watching a magic act that had been understudied by comedians, except that science was involved and offered the tantalizing mysticism of 'we'll teach you these magician's secrets, we'll teach you those forbidden sciences, we'll teach you something that's actually kind of cool and that the _rest_ of your friends don't know, and if they miss it they might as well be missing the key episode of some reality show/soap opera/crime scene drama because everyone else will be talking about it tomorrow…so aren't you glad you're here?'

It was raw and it was straight-forward, but…amazingly enough…they had something informative to say, and they were _entertaining_. Worst of all…it was something _different_. And new. And…annoyingly…catching.

So who'd been paying for this?

It looked expensive, but there was no way the science department had the budget for this. And who were these kids? No one around him seemed to know them personally…the murmurs that he heard used the same generics terms that he did: 'brown-haired kid, tall blonde, the short one…' and not one name.

Hell, it was like some strange episode of Twilight Zone, where the aliens came and dazzled the humans and pied-pipered them off to be zoo-creatures in cages on some foreign planet…this was just too bizarre to be really happening. Teens didn't just come from out of no where and start making science fun…that was for ambitious educate-y films that teachers showed their students. It just _didn't happen._ Not in real life.

And yet he'd have to go back tonight and tell Tseng that, well, apparently, it did.

So he'd better not go back saying 'Yeah, it happened, and no one knows who they are, and they beamed back up into their space-ship when they were done.' That sort of line didn't fly unless you were legitimately crazy, and insanity wasn't usually his style.

That just meant he'd have to try things in the 'appropriate manner' then. In an insane world he'd have to be the sane one. Tseng didn't hire him just for his looks, after all.

He was going to do some research.

--

--

--

He'd had to be very patient to out-wait the numerous students who'd stopped to ask questions about Chemistry Club after the first session had concluded, and that wasn't particularly something he was good at. On the plus side, it had given him access to nearly all the names he'd needed when they introduced themselves afterwards: Braig, Dilan, Xehanort, and the girl was Even. They chattered amongst each other, now, as the last person departed and they managed to actually clean up.

"Xehanort, you and Dilan go ahead and cart these boxes back while I finish scrubbing glassware, here." The prissy voice of the blonde sighed out, as if finally daring to relax a few notches down from 'impossibly high strung' into simply a C. "Braig, I need you to take these extra chairs down to the Janitor's Room."

"Dude, why me? That'll take forever by myself!"

"Because you're the only one who knows where it is and you'll fit in there, besides." Even retorted, blowing an out-of-place hair out of her face before turning back to the sink where she had several beakers that were being rinsed.

They got along in the same way brothers and sisters did, which was to say pretty much not at all. Except for the part where they'd performed miracles and small explosions (Reno had liked that best,) they didn't seem like that much of a threat. The gangs in Radiant Garden (and he was using the term 'gangs' loosely in regards to these guys) just didn't have that much cohesion, and that was why they never got that far. If you didn't have a team that stuck together, or didn't have a goal…

But, then again, they did seem to have a Chemistry Club.

He eyed them, closer, amused that they hadn't noticed him while the bickering continued. There wasn't anything _really _special about them, to the casual glance, though they were easy to distinguish in a crowd. Even had been giving orders with the air of someone who expects to be obeyed and then slipped efficiently back to work, and Reno mused that if he had to compare apples to oranges she was something like a girly Tseng. And if she were like Tseng (which still had him internally laughing) then Xehanort who had been eagerly picking up boxes as ordered was probably the enthusiastic newbie…like Elena. So now…if he sized everyone up…who would it be he'd want to fight? Dilan…he was pretty strong. Maybe he played football or something, but there were definitely muscles under there, and he didn't talk much. That looked like Rude, then, and Reno wouldn't have wanted to be in a fight with him. And Braig…well, if he tilted his head just the right way, Braig looked like _him_…and he _definitely _didn't want to be in a fight with that. But Tseng knew how to handle him, and could probably handle Braig, and Reno figured Even didn't seem like much for fighting and Xehanort wouldn't have enough confidence to carry through. From what he could see, this group was easily out-matched.

The brown-haired guy was arguing with the blonde, however, (which was also guiltily familiar,) when _it_ happened.

Even had been reaching for a flask when Braig suddenly freaked out.

"Don't touch that one!" He started to shout, lifting a hand that had been half-way through a gesture of complaint and now was madly trying to shift into some flailing warning sign.

Reno recognized the flask. Apparently, Braig had too, but it was too late for anything to be done about it, now.

Even's hand came into contact with glass that had been, a short few minutes ago, holding about one hundred degrees of boiling aqueous solution.

Not unexpectedly, Even dropped the beaker. Dropped wasn't really the right word, though, since it was dropping pretty quickly _sideways_ in the way things drop when they're hot and people fling them. And then everybody moved at once.

Instead of the crash of breaking glass that _was_ expected, Xehanort was suddenly suspending the flask a few inches over tile with a pair of tongs that Braig had thrown to him, while Dilan was suspending Xehanort by the back of his shirt_._ Even had stepped quickly back and out of range of both projecting tongs and Xehanort, and now quietly reached down to pluck up the offending flask, setting it to bob in the cool water of the sink. Behind the white-haired kid and Dilan, the box that Xehanort had abandoned half-way on the cart finally unbalanced and toppled to the floor, where it echoed with a heavy _thud._

There were a few moments of silence before all of them started laughing, but in Reno's head quiet bells were going off.

This group, if they put their mind to it…could be _dangerous._ If they needed to, they would move like fighters. They _had _to be fighters.

But…fighters…who ran a _Chemistry _club?

Now a different bell was going off, and this one wasn't in his head.

Even's eyes glanced up to the clock and narrowed as the final dismissal bell suggested that it was time for clubs to be clearing out and going home, and waved urgently at Xehanort and Dilan. "Go on, go on. The guards will be wondering if _someone_ doesn't show up soon."

With a nod, Dilan pushed a cart towards the door, and Xehanort shifted the box with one hand to wave at Reno with the other as he left. Braig had already disappeared out and down the hall, which just left Reno and the girl alone inside the room.

That was fine with him.

Quietly, he stood and started moving closer, used to sneaking unnoticed through a room. She was…bony, and severe, and small-chested, but she was still a tall-blonde and Reno had the idea that there were long, slim legs beneath there somewhere. Her eyes were attractive, too, a sharp, observing green behind a pair of glasses, the sort of eyes that probably had spent far too many hours observing fact after fact without any idea that someone out there might like looking at them. He'd met the bookish type before…even the shrewd bookish type…and there were always ways to talk to them, especially if you knew their interests. In this case, he was slightly ahead of the game.

"Y'know." He began, in the silence, and watched her freeze, hands clutching white around a pair of forceps. "I never thought I'd be the scientific type. I was pretty much figured that there wasn't anything interesting in chemistry… Here, lemme help" He had already taken the foreceps from her hands, brushing his fingers along hers _just_ slightly and turning the water back on to pick up where she'd left off. "It's just that…not enough people in the world stop to realize that there is science happening all over the place…and every day, you know?"

The green eyes were still slightly shocked, but one eyebrow was lifting in curiosity. "Do go on. Are you saying that…you found our lecture helpful?"

Reno awarded a medal-winning smile in return. It was the sort of medal that reflected sunlight and burnt ant-holes to a crisp, it had that kind of warmth. "I'd say it changed the way I looked at life around me…permanently." He'd managed to shift his weight just a little, so that his hip brushed up against hers. "Your name was Even, wasn't it? And you're a senior, right? Do you think that maybe you could give me some pointers since I'm taking Chemistry III next semester--"

"--I'm not doing your homework, heavens no, so don't even ask. Unless you can top the last bid of 538 munny..." The green eyes were now narrowing, which was exactly what Reno had been hoping for. It was time to lay it on thick, and pull from the faint memory of Chemistry class and the notes of stuff he'd looked at for just this purpose before coming in.

"No, no, I've just been in an argument with my professors as to whether or not 3 moles of 0² in balancing an equation with both concentrated light and darkness where hydrogen is present could result in actual water at 23 degrees Celsius…" He stopped there, feeling no need to say anything more. It wasn't like he didn't know what was going on around him in science classes, after all. He just…didn't want to be bothered to put forth any extra effort for stuff like homework, or projects, or class discussions. The only kind of chemistry that Reno liked was when things were blowing up.

But Even _stared_.

"Dear lord. I love you."

The faucet had stopped, the remaining 'dishes' were dripping clean, and the last of the water had drained out of the sink…but Even was still staring in rapture. Reno'd hit the right mark, and knew it, and lazily allowed his smile to continue through the silence, feigning interest.

"I mean, I've always been a strict proponent that it would require at _least_ a solid 35 degrees, because it seemed to me like darkness has an affinity towards warmth, but no one has ever been able to capture enough concentrated darkness to even test, and my own experiments have been only vaguely conclusive. Most scientists are still arguing that darkness cannot even be considered an element, but I say that if it displays enough properties of a particle, then it is a solid mass and must be such. It's not enough of a theory to operate under, but Broherbund has managed to show explicit evidence that…"

The rambling continued down a road that was not marked on any map, and Reno put forth a Herculean effort to keep his eyes from glazing over. Even was flying from theory to theory, but _worse _than that was providing supporting evidence…and worse than _that_ was providing _numerical_ statistics. That was a bit more than Reno wanted to take right now. Just _thinking_ the words 'numerical statistics' made him want to run and slam a pair of headphones over his ears with some form of hard rock on the other end, get as drunk as possible off a quart of ice cream (only the truly brave could manage that,) and use his fake ID to dance at a club with Rude and a pair of hot girls until 4 in the morning, miles and hours away from stoichiometry.

Yet his smile stayed, and his arm had almost completely wrapped itself around the girl's thin waist while she'd been rambling.

This was, one way or another, a mission.

"…and, after all, Dredd coined the idea first, and was the first to publish even his incomplete analysis. Unless… you think that Zuehler was closer to the actual conclusion, despite his tardiness?"

"I'd argue that its better late than never, but I tend to run at my own pace most of the time anyways. So long as the job gets done, and gets done smoothly, right?" He smirked, glad to have the ball back in his court. It was easy to see that Even agreed with that, as well, but he wasn't ready to hear another couple dozen reasons why. "I'd..ah…really love to know more…about your hypothesis…" He blinked deep blue eyes right into green ones and gently removed the other's glasses, vaguely amused that he'd managed to get so close, before he came right to the point. "And about how you came across the idea for Chemistry club…perhaps tonight, over dinner?" 'Suave' was a bit different than outright 'Sexy,' but he was getting the gist. It had more to do with tact and elegance and some guy named Don Juan than straight out physical attractiveness (which he had coined into a science,) but since it _was_ just another form of being attractive it came easily enough. "Where shall I pick you up at seven?"

Even's eyes suddenly got…rather wide…and the taut mouth gaped. Slowly, Reno watched as a red deeper than his hair spread across the other's face and remained there for a solid minute in the silence…before the mouth clamped shut, the eyes narrowed, the glasses were snatched from his hand, and the most indignant noise came from the pale throat.

"I'm…rather sorry, _sir_, but I do not date other boys. Good day."

--

--

--

And that was that.

Reno had managed to slump backwards into a chair, contemplating how he had made such a glaring error. The more he thought on it, the more it had been pretty obvious that Even _had_ been a boy (if a rather effeminate one) and that Reno'd simply managed to ignore all the signs after his first grand assumption. It was pretty rare that he was wrong about that sort of thing…not that it _really_ mattered. He did have _some_ new information, after all…names, _genders,_ the fact that they all were remarkably fit, and that Even had mentioned 'guards.' That last one was the most odd. Only people as rich as Rufus's dad had 'guards,' and the quartet with the chemistry act didn't seem like they were from supremely rich families.

Although, if they were, that would have explained the funding.

And, then, that would definitely mean they were unsanctioned.

And, hey, he'd actually managed to charm a guy all the way up to the actual asking!

In a way, it suddenly was _not_ so much of a failure. He'd been pretty smooth about it, after all. The key was just in not…actually…believing that you were hitting on a boy. But he was more than willing to bet that there were guys out there who would be attracted to him…probably even guys who were straight, right? He was pretty appealing, right?

Reno's shoulder's slumped.

He still just…hadn't gotten _enough_ information. Not for his own standards, and that was disheartening. Turks didn't let _chemists_ out-maneuver them…chemists were _geeks._ A Turk was way more likely to be holding a geek's head under the water while it flushed than to be sitting here moping. It wasn't _right_. He wasn't loosing his edge, was he?

"Dude. I sure hope detention in this bakery doesn't run _this_ late." A voice behind him joked, and the red-head felt a pair of hands take hold of the back of his chair. "If it does, remind me not to cause too much trouble."

Slowly, Reno's neck craned back, an eyebrow lifting up-side-down to view a pair of laughing, warm brown eyes. "Detention isn't for those who cause trouble, pal." He smirked, impressed that someone had managed to creep up on _him,_ even as he recognized the over-enthusiastically-laid-back Braig from earlier. "Its just for those who _get _caught_. _And then sent off to the Janitor's Closet." He added almost as an afterthought.

The group…had skills. He hadn't been wrong about that. People weren't _naturally_ sneaky enough to surprise a Turk (even if, at the moment, Reno was still questioning his Turk-worthiness.) That sort of thing only came through practice.

And usually a death wish, but..

"I came out of that closet _weeks_ ago." Braig countered, apparently aware of the double-meaning to his words. "Didn't phase me. I do need that chair you're sitting on, though."

"They lock the school if you're here too late, you know." Reno blinked up, not having any intention of leaving the chair unless _he_ felt so inclined.

"Well, I've got a job to do, and I'm gonna do it, and if that means I get left behind and locked in then I'll just make sure the blame falls onto Even for not bringing me home safely." There was a brief, innocent expression, the sort to indicate that Braig was young and impressionable and couldn't _possibly_ be expected to take care of himself on the long, dangerous walk back to wherever he was from. It was an expression that lasted all of three seconds before it was replaced by a lopsided grin. "Besides, if I do have to wait for this chair all night, that just means you're going to be locked in with me. And I'll warn you that I'm starving and very good at hiding bodies."

The threat wasn't a real one, Reno knew, but the fact that a student was joking around with that sort of tone around a Turk was somewhere between refreshing and insane. "Maybe I'll play nice and make a deal with you, then."

"Oh?" A slender eyebrow arched, slightly more serious. "You _will _die quietly, perhaps, while I look up recipes for Leg-of-probably-too-scrawny-to-eat-guy-who-dies-his-hair?"

"You take that back. This red is _natural_." The exchange of looks had gone from coy to serious to positively icy…the carbon dioxide sort of icy.

"And I like it when the prey's still wriggling," winked Braig.

Suddenly, Reno couldn't decide whether or not he was disgusted by that last statement, or attracted by it. There was the definite tone of challenge, but in the good natured sort of 'hey, I didn't actually mean to offend, so let's just get on with the parrying alright?' That, and…well…there were four of them. Four chemists…four Turks…it was all on even ground. Fair was fair.

If he weren't wearing short sleeves, it would have been time for him to roll them up and throw the dice.

"Here's the deal. I'll get out of your way and actually help you clean up these chairs so we can leave before they lock the place. I'll even walk you home to make sure you're safe from all those bad guys that your dashing Even can't protect you from, and in return you can buy me an ice cream at the local stand." It was a pretty win-win situation from Reno's point of view. He would find out the information he needed about where these people came from AND get fed.

"Only if you throw in dinner on your end." There was no smirk, but there was a definite amused light behind the other's eyes as he pressed his advantage, leaning down a bit further in a challenge.

"You drive too hard a bargain." Reno laughed. "No dinner, but I'll promise not to tell every girl in a 40 mile radius how far into the Janitor's Closet you've actually been." He flashed his best white smile upward, taking a savory amount of relish in the brief 'you wouldn't' that crossed between the other's eyes. He had bluffed his way on to the high ground, now.

Braig considered, for a moment, glancing towards the door, before he leaned down to mere inches from the red-head's face. "I've got one final offer for you, dude, before all the blood rushes to your head." He began, strangely reverently, like a guy might start to tell a ghost story while in the middle of a haunted mansion.

"And what's that?" Reno whispered back, ready to call him out.

"Dinner, and I promise not to tell a soul how long you hit on Even."

Oh, f-ck.

Reno's hand went up, and the deal was made.

--

--

--

"I came from the islands." Braig went on slowly, sipping the strawberry banana smoothie he'd gotten for desert. "This fishing village, in the middle of nowhere. Mine was kind of a big family, mostly boys, and here I was the youngest, so I grew up on the beach and watched them sail off…around the world and then back home." His other hand had picked up a smooth, flat stone which he skipped along the surface of a long, mirrored fountain in the square.

The sun was slowly setting in the laziness of a world that wouldn't quite let go of summer, and Reno knew he was going to be late to report in for the evening but he wasn't sure he cared. He could, after all, count on one finger the amount of times he'd actually arrived to meetings when he was supposed to, and he was reasonably confident that the words 'fashionably late' had been formed with respect to him. Reno was fashionable, and Reno was late. Facts of life.

Besides, hanging out with Braig was…useful.

"How'd _you _wind up on this side of the planet, then?" Reno prodded smoothly, steering the conversation where he wanted it to go while he took a bite from the top of his own ice-cream cone.

"Luck," was all that Braig replied, searching around for another stone to throw and finding nothing. "Just luck and chance, and probably a lot of both. I'm not actually all that lucky, though." The stone-less hand gestured towards the sky, having nothing more to do but help Braig tell his story. "Tried to pick a winning lottery ticket and clean up a few poker games, but it turns out I'm pretty average in the end. Probably all my luck got wasted when someone found out that I was smart." There was, strangely, the tiniest amount of bitterness behind the words, but it was a subject Reno decided was best not to be pursued.

"Being smart isn't a bad thing, though. As long as you don't take it as far as Even does, right?" Reno chuckled.

"Dude…thankfully _nobody _takes science as far as Even does." The other grinned back for a moment, before he sighed and headed on away from the square. "When you're smart, though, people _expect_ things out of you. They want you to make things or fix things or decide things, and all of these 'things' are just things that _they _think are important. I mean, if I'm so smart, shouldn't I already _know _what's important without being told?" Braig shook his head. "Anyways, I do."

"Oh yeah?"

There was a laugh. "Of course! It's _important_ to not get too stressed, and to do things you enjoy doing…"

"And to look damned cool while doing them." Reno finished, licking the last of his ice-cream off his fingers.

"Exactly! I guess you must be pretty smart, too."

"I've heard I can be, when I put my mind to it." They were following the canals, now, heading in the general direction of the haphazard castle in the distance. "Then again, that's what being smart _is,_ eh? Just putting your mind to something and not giving up."

"But you can't apply yourself to something you don't care about, and that's what always drives the tutors nuts. Master Ansem says that its important to understand about every subject, and I guess I can't disagree, but do I _have _to honestly do homework about a subject when I already know as much as I'm ever going to be able to apply about it?"

Reno was suddenly listening intently, trying to absorb all of that and make the right sort of sense out of Braig's ramblings. He _was_ a rich kid, if he had multiple tutors, and he had to be somewhere pretty high up in society to have talked to Ansem the Wise. So shouldn't he have been one of those political types that Rufus associated with and already knew everything about? And why have tutors and _still _be going to Radiant Garden High? And…hadn't…he mentioned that he and Even lived together?

Hell. Either there was a logical explanation for all of this, or something really kinky was happening with the ruler of this kingdom.

"Well, no one says you _have_ to finish homework. They just quote all the 'bad stuff' that comes along from not doing it, such as 'bad grades,' and going to a 'bad university." Reno replied, amused, but watching Braig more carefully now. "Which, if your life's already planned or set up, isn't that much of a threat."

"Yeah…but having a planned out life isn't all that much better, you know."

"Depends on if they're your plans or someone else's." Reno glanced away, thinking for a brief moment about his own future. It was, if nothing else, better than thinking about the past. Everyone in their town pretty much worked for Rufus's dad…and eventually, Rufus was going to inherit the company at which time pretty much everyone would work for him. This was perfect for Reno, because…as far as he could tell…he already _did_ work for Rufus, and that didn't seem likely to change at any future point. They all moved well together, and…well, someday Rufus would need guards that already knew his ins and outs. They'd all go to university together, and they'd graduate, and then they'd just…take over, and nothing _really_ would change. It would all just be…bigger.

Braig, however, was being unusually quiet, which seemed to indicate that the plans taking place for _his _future were out of his control. The silence continued for a few more blocks, before the brown-haired boy stopped, and looked off towards where Reno knew the ocean was. "I could totally leave at any time, you know. Just…walk out one day…snag a ship…and spend the rest of my life flying between two types of sky."

"So why don't you?" Reno asked, before he had even realized he'd asked it, and shoved his hands into his pockets in quiet indignation. It wasn't a necessary question, but it was somehow an important one.

"Oh, I don't know." There was a smirk, even though Braig wasn't looking at anything in particular. "Probably because Xehanort would be sad, and Dilan wouldn't talk to anyone, and Even would get his prissy way all of the time." A lone foot scuffed the pavement, leaving a black mark on the cobblestones below. "I guess I won't always fit in here…but…I will always _belong_ here. They…sort of make it home, even if it's not where I was born."

"They're family…." was a quiet return, blue eyes drifting up to the remnants of a blue sky. "Yeah. I guess I understand."

"I'll see you next Chemistry Club, then?" Braig smiled, his footsteps resuming past Reno towards an alley. "This is my stop."

"Oh! Uh…yeah. For certain. Wouldn't miss it for the world." He hadn't failed to notice the slight way that Braig's fingers had brushed his own shirt as he'd passed, and that bell was going off inside his head again…the one that shouted 'danger' along with the one that suggested this might just be fun. "I have a great respect for chemistry, you know."

Brown eyes glanced up and down Reno's figure briefly, scanning him with a completely unguarded bemusement. "I could tell." There was a slight tingle of elation as Reno _recognized_ that look and mirrored it, giving equal respect back the same way that professionals noticed each other's gifts even when competing. He'd gotten Braig to talk, and…well…Braig had gotten dinner. It was an even exchange.

"I don't think it's something that you 'tell,'" he mused. "When it's real Chemistry, you just _know_."

Braig laughed, and gave a final, long salute. "Next Tuesday…then...uh….what did you say your name was?"

A much quicker, jauntier salute was easily returned, and with considerably less formality. "Reno," said Reno, and waved as Braig gave his name in return, watching as the other vanished into shadows.

Night was quickly overtaking the sky as he stood there, allowing the brown-haired boy sufficient time to head into an alleyway that didn't lead to anywhere, pondering what had just occurred. Had he just met himself coming and going? A parallel set of _them,_ of Turks, who answered to some man and did whatever they wanted despite outside authority? He recognized the slip he'd just been given, and knew Braig's house was not in that alley or even in that direction, and knew that he'd have done the same thing in Braig's place.

It was something _new._

Reno hadn't been expecting opposition, and he knew that both Rufus and Tseng thought they'd already eliminated all the obstacles, yet against all odds there had been something else that had slipped past their wires. And why not? If the five of them had come together hundreds of miles away in Twilight Town, was it so odd to think that these guys had done so, here?

So who, then, Reno wondered, did the chemistry quartet answer to? And what were they fighting for, or what was it they wanted to protect, if anything? And…finally…just how good _were _they?

Reno glanced down to his watch without taking his hand out of his pocket, and slowly nodded to himself.

At least that last question was about to be found out.

--

--

--

It hadn't been easy, a fact that left Reno somewhere between annoyance and elation. Sometimes the hardest jobs you couldn't wait to get back home from, but…sometimes…the hardest jobs were the most fun.

It was dark, now, and particularly quiet, punctuated only by the rusty sounds of squeaky chains. The wind had died down, sheltered far away from the ocean by the myriads of houses, trees, cliffs and other buildings, and no storms rumbled in the distance beneath the perfect sky.

Reno simply sat, and waited, letting his still buzzing feet faintly touch the ground, pushing himself back and forth gently on the swingset, until a shadowy figure slowly surfaced up ahead.

"You're late," it said.

"Big surprise," Reno replied, and rolled his eyes. "I've got what you're looking for, at least." His heart was _still _pounding, even, from when he'd finished running back. Braig didn't leave a straight path in the slightest, weaving back and forth right out of that alleyway and down another couple dozen blocks before passing through the gilded gates.

"And that is?" queried Tseng, his features outlined against the blackness by the one light in the play yard, a sleek black eyebrow rising.

"A real force to be reckoned with…the apprentices of Ansem the Wise himself." A smirk was forming, as Reno began to divulge his report to his superior, though half of the smirk was in amusement that he was 'reporting' to a 'superior' at all. Tseng took his job too seriously, sometimes.

But this was, in fact, dead serious.

A new challenge, really, and he could see Tseng react accordingly. Outside interference in their little scheme would not be tolerated.

They were going to be back on heavy observation duty, now. Security would have to be checked, people would have to be threatened, lines would have to be tapped…until Chemistry Club was finally no more.

"Do you suspect there'll be that much resistance?" Reno blinked, as Tseng made a brief suggestion and pulled out his cell phone to record some final notes.

"Likely not, but we'll plan for the worst and be over-prepared. There might be retaliation…" The other sighed, pocketing his phone quickly again and straightening his cuffs. "But we Turks will not get mad."

"Hell no." Reno replied, jumping off the swing to join him. "We'll get Even."


End file.
